Eggs in the Morning
by spider-lin-beifong
Summary: It's Riza and Roy's first day off since Mustang became Fuhrer. Just a warning- there is no actual plot to this. It's a fluffy scene of the lives of Roy and Riza to make all the fangirls... well... fangirl. That's about it.


Riza blinked twice as she woke to Black Hayate licking her cheek playfully.

The scent of something tantalizingly familiar filled the air and wafted into her nose. _Eggs._ She smiled, as she felt the other side of the bed. Sure enough, Fuhrer Roy Mustang had left to go make the two of them breakfast. Eggs were his favorite breakfast food, and she was slowly realizing it was becoming her's too. Perhaps it was something about the way he made them- or perhaps the fact that he did make them- that made breakfast always taste like something far grander than the word "egg" implied. He could afford more costly breakfast food such as smoked fish, and caviar (he was the Fuhrer after all) but he insisted that no morning was to start without eggs- and often refused to eat anything else before noon.

However, someth**i**ng different seemed to play with the air around her. _Sugar?_ No, it wasn't exactly sweet, but she couldn't determine exactly what it was that she She covered her bare form with a royal blue robe- his, of course. He _always _took her nice, black one- and stumbled her way down the stairs.

A "Good morning, Lieutenant," broke the stillness of eggs frying in the pan, as Roy heard her thump down the stairs. Black Hayate preceeded her, barking a greeting at the Fuhrer. Roy added a little milk to the still not-completely-cooked breakfast. Riza walked into the kitchen, rubbed her eyes, and watched Roy cook. There was something so soothing about the way he make breakfast- as if he was painting a picture or sculpting a masterpiece. "Why the hell are you putting milk in your eggs?" she groaned.

Roy grinned and kissed her cheek tenderly. "I've decided to try something, Riza," he said to her, matter-of-factly, as he put cinnamon into the eggs.

_Cinnamon. That scent had to be it._

"I probably should have tried to make this before today for myself, but I do remember my mother doing this for me once. The consistency looks right."

Riza peered into the pan, not entirely sure what the right consistency actually was. She hadn't cooked since she'd lived with her father, and frankly she never wanted to again. She had all but forgotten how.

"They look like milky eggs, Roy."

"Exactly! There's no clumping or thickening. There's no oozing or decoloring. Just milky eggs."

"I'm assuming that's a good thing, sir."

"That it is, Reece."

Roy looked into the saucepan, determined the eggs were indeed finished, and spooned them into two separate bowls. Then, he took them both, set one down in Riza's place and took a bite. He smiled. "Mmm! Riza, try this."

Riza hesitantly lifted a forkful of egg into her mouth. After all, he had saved her life on multiple occasions. The least she could do was try. It didn't look terrible, and it smelled kind of nice.

Her face broke into a smile, and she slowly forked more into her mouth, gaining speed as each bite was swallowed.

The Mustang grinned into his mug as he slowly sipped the strong, black coffee every two or three fork fulls of his breakfast. Mustang could understand through her eyes that these were the best eggs he ever made- even if he felt like the amount of cinnamon was a bit superfluous. He loved that Riza could speak volumes with a quick glance. She never needed to speak so long as he was looking at her. It was thing he missed most in the few moments he was blinded.

"You've got some egg on your cheek."

"Where?" asked Mustang.

Hawkeye jokingly rolled her eyes and pretended to wipe off a spare egg crumb and swiftly stole a kiss on his cheek.

Roy responded by kissing her lips. Hawkeye recoiled.

"What's wrong?"

"Your mustache, sir. It needs to come off."

Roy looked at her in surprise. "I thought you liked it!"

"Not everyone was meant to have one, Roy."

"You said you _liked_ mustaches!"

"I said I liked Major General Armstrong's mustache," Riza retorted.

"You said I should get one!"

"Jokingly, Roy."

Roy smoothed down his facial hair in attempts to smooth his rustled pride. "Well... Havoc said he liked it."

She groaned. "You trust Havoc with your fashion sense?"

"Good point." Roy took his last sip of coffee, and went to the bathroom to shave it off, along with the additional hairs beginning to crop up on his face. "You know, it was such a pain trying to keep the line so exact." Roy finished shaving and rubbed both his smoothed jaw and upper lip."It's much easier to be clean shaven."

Riza cupped his cheek in her hand, kissed his lips, and smiled. "Much better."


End file.
